I am a bit player in the legacy of a nasturtium dynasty. My mother, Molly Bush, was our matriarch. She sowed annual nasturtium seeds devotionally every Good Friday. This was a few weeks before the last frost date. She knew what she was doing.
Seeds were sown along a warm, exposed southern wall of my Louisville childhood home. The spirit of Good Friday worked magically. Her baby nasturtiums were never caught by a late frost.
Borage and nasturtiums. Story May Lowe photo.
Story May Lowe photo
Molly planted nasturtiums with joy
She would cringe if she, God rest her soul, knew I dared call her a matriarch. Mom was an unpretentious gardener who adored her treasured ornamental nasturtiums.
Matters of their edibility, however, were not factored in between weekly supper servings of meat loaf and cherry Jell-O. Euell Gibbon’s name was never brought up.
Augusta Lion enjoys her nasturtiums in Bellingham
Nasturtium know-how skipped a generation
My daughter Molly is a gardener, forager, herbalist, and nasturtium devotee in Bellingham, WA. Two weeks ago, she taught her dad a few tricks. Molly and her family eat nasturtium leaves, flowers, and seed pods from the garden. They have a “peppery, almost mustard-like taste, which makes them lovely as a garnish in salad,” according to Sequoia Seeds. “The seedpods may also be pickled and used like capers.” Molly’s mom, Ali Mathews, taught us a new trick. Ever tried Nasturtium Jell-O? I did a taste test.
Molly Bush and Pops, UBC Botanical Garden in Vancouver.
Imagine a cake, slathered in blueberry icing and decorated with blooms of nasturtiums, calendulas, feverfew and dotted with blueberries? We went to a dinner party at Amy and Drew Daly’s and met Phoebe Wahl, the award-award winning children’s book author who turns out to be fine baker and nasturtium lover. Check out her Nasturtium Fairy.
Bellingham may be the “City of Subdued Excitement,” but they know how to put on a nasturtium show.
I was not a child floral prodigy
Easter Sunday brought the church’s miracle, along with the gift of a single Easter Lily cut flower, and a potted red geranium for all the children. Death followed long before Ascension Day. Funny thing: geraniums, sitting on the back of the downstairs toilet, need occasional watering.
Redemption took time. Gardening blessed me in my early 20s and was never forsaken. I can’t, however, recall growing nasturtiums. I was snobbish. I coveted the newest and attempted the impossible and failed often. There was some success, but Himalayan blue poppies didn’t take to central Kentucky. Neither did species of Lewisia, western North American rocky and gravel dwellers. Lewisia’s purslane cousin is a carpeting weed that tastes like Bibb lettuce. It is right at home in the cracks of our front walk.
Gardeners eventually get comfortable with some weeds and some failure. I graze on volunteer lamb’s quarters every day. My hollyhock leaves have been perforated by rust again this year.
Nasturtiums (Tropaeolum majus) come close to fool-proof, but if you imagine them as common annuals only, think again. You need to read how Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum creates their “iconic Hanging Nasturtiums display.”
Maurice Pillard Verneuil’s ‘La Plante et ses Applications Ornementales’ (1896). Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.
I returned to my family’s roots this year
Molly sent a decorative tin of nasturtium seeds, from Sequoia Seeds, for my May birthday, six weeks after Good Friday.
Seeds were sown on the thin soil surrounding a new stump—the remnant of a vicious windstorm in March that toppled a 50-year-old white pine. It was not the only damaging windstorm to topple trees this year all over central Kentucky. My arborist friend Matt Sullivan said he can’t recall so many devastating storms in these first six months during his 40-year career.
Rose, Steve Ricketts and Rufus on March 12th
Fifty or so seeds, out of 200, germinated. Not bad, considering: the first few weeks of June were bone dry. I missed a watering or two. Abundant July rains picked up the slack.
Rufus and the Nasturtium Stump
By early August, twisting nasturtium stems, with fresh green round leaves, like moon jellyfish, tumbled over the pine stump with yellow, red and orange blooms.
Momma would be proud.
Your stump looks like it’s been there for more than just a few months. The nasturtiums are covering it nicely. How lovely that your daughter is carrying on the family tradition of gardening albeit in a new and modern way. My grandmother would seed nasturtiums in a balcony railing container on her 6th floor balcony in Victoria. By mid-July they would be hanging down almost two stories. Her lower neighbours loved the floral display. Alas, I struggle with nasturtiums here as they are devoured by the white cabbage butterfly. They do make a good catch plant though.
Elaine, I’m imagining your grandmother’s 6th story nasturtium display. Wonderful! We’ve gotten white cabbage butterflies that do a number on our brassicas, but leave, or have left this year, the nasturtiums alone.
All the rain on California this past winter brought amazing displays of Nasturtiums along the hillsides lasting well into May! It was a thing of beauty for sure.
Mary Beth, I was in Joshua Tree in late February, but it was still early. I’d hoped to see the desert in bloom. I gather the rains brought a super bloom in March and April. Oh, and to see hillsides of nasturtiums in bloom…
Hi Allen,
I’m savoring this and will read again & again.
Love the family parts and Bravo to your namesake daughter.
Nasturtiums will go on my list for next year.
Btw, the Gardner is a joy for everyone in Mass; even my museum-avoiding 12-year old grandBoy loves it. I’ve only been twice but it is heaven to me. Sure would be nice if those stolen masterwork paintings might someday be found and returned.
The small courtyard gardens at the Gardner remind me of the larger, herbally aromatic ones at The Cloisters in upper Manhattan.
Have you been? If not, pls. put it on your bucket list. “Must-see.”
I just returned from a long visit to Boston Metro and am still swooning from Hydrangea Fever. Best, Diane
Thank you, Diane. I am very proud of my daughter. My granddaughter, who photographed the nasturtium close-ups, enjoys gardens, too. Have not been to the Gardner, but remember the 1990 heist. I would love to visit someday.
I love nasturtiums but for years I’ve been unable to grow them here. Can you send a spell to lift the curse??
Sorry to hear that. I’ll do what I can. Meanwhile, on my morning walk with Rufus, I noticed several Lenten Roses just keeled over. I don’t deserve this.
I too love nasturtiums and live in Bellingham! They often seed themselves in my garden and I love the rough and tumble look of them – especially late in the summer when most of the rest of the garden is getting pretty tired. I sometimes think of eliminating yellow and especially orange flowers from my garden but then the nasturtiums come and remind me that I haven’t been appreciating them enough.
We eat them in all the forms. Flowers as pretty garnish on a cheese plate or a cake and in salads. And, the seeds pickled with our bagels & smoke salmon.
My only issues is that they are beautiful right up until the aphids show up. And then very quickly they are covered. I drag them out of the garden beds (by then they seem to be 10-12′ long!) and let the chickens enjoy.
Eileen, the aphids can be forgiven if I can collect and pickle nasturtium seeds and throw it together with smoked salmon and bagels. Wonderful. Thank you for the tip!
Beautiful, Allen, as always. Augusta Lion has that same amused twinkle in her eyes that you have, and the nasturtiums seem to be happy, too. I’ve failed with nasturtiums in Texas, but then I didn’t know about the spiritual timing. I’ll put a note in the calendar for just before Good Friday next year, and a reminder to perhaps say a prayer over them. Will shamelessly steal the combination with borage….
Jenny, Augusta loves eating nasturtiums. Leave it to Molly to divine the combo with borage. I will crib that, too. I’m worried from what you and have Sally have reported that nasturtiums won’t do in Texas, but maybe a Good Friday devotional sowing is the magic trick. Good luck!
Another Texas resident here, Jenny, and you’re right – nasturtiums are not happy here in Texas. It gets too hot too soon for them to thrive. They’re too tender to grow in the winter, and too heat sensitive to grow in the summer, so we can only enjoy them for a few short weeks. in the spring. I too love the borage and nasturtium combo. Orange and purple is one of my favorite color combos with plants.
Allen, it’s always a pleasure to read your rants.
Sally, the summer heat prohibition on nasturtiums intrigues me. I wonder if it’s extreme heat or high nighttime temperatures? Maybe a late summer sowing? I’m fishing for possibilities. It’s hot and humid in Kentucky. I try to get out early in the morning. I don’t do heat very well.
We have highs in the upper 90’s and 100’s, especially this year and last, and lows in the low to mid 80’s, sometimes starting as early as April or more frequently May, so there’s no relief. Humidity levels and dew points vary, with higher humidity days bringing the lower highs. I just know that when I’ve tried growing them, no matter how much I’ve babied them, they’ve turned brown and crispy and cried to me, “Why, why did you do this to me?!”
I’m asking the same question of the weather, too. I’m so tired of it always being hot. At least we don’t have it as bad as the people in Arizona!
Sally, your heat sounds terrible. It might not be much consolation, but I once asked a wise old farmer, during a a prolonged drought, if it were ever going to rain again. Mr. McKinney always leaned toward the positive side. He said, “Oh, yeah, it will rain again someday. I know you’ll be happier when it cools off.
I adore nasturtiums, especially the lovely variegated Alaska ones, and use them to border beds and fill in empty spaces in the garden. And yes, they are delicious!
Thanks, Anna. The variegated ones are pretty. Another nasturtium I like is ‘Cream Beauty’ with maroon centers and smaller leaves. Not as vigorous as others. That might not be such a bad thing.
A decade ago I was in Boston with my hubby, who was attending a conference. I wondered the city, fortune would serve me, I found the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum. Love it!
I have wanted to go to see the nasturtium display ever since. When we were there in March this year we headed over to the museum, it has been found out, not a ticket to be had.
Plans will be made to get there next June for the show.
And now I want nasturtiums in my garden! Not sure Anderson county soil would do!?
Nancy, I’d bet my bottom dollar that nasturtiums would do fine in Anderson County, KY. I hope you make the Gardner floral extravaganza next year.
Ah, nasturtiums~ Some years I pony up for “specialty” seed — Regal Emperor, a rather dreary mauve isn’t for everyone but I love it. I was very careful to isolate (sort of) and save seed from last year’s plants but a spring heat wave cooked all my seedlings in the greenhouse. I shouldn’t have worried. As plants all over the garden came into their own in late spring, along with the very loud orange ones and a deep red that fades to bronze, several Regals showed up. I’ve got ambitious climbers hiked up the tomato stakes or trailing from the stock tank herb garden. I suppose it’s no surprise that Regal is squat and mauve, royalty are often dyspeptic.
“Dreary mauve…” I’m intrigued, Lorene. I’ll give it a go next year.